The campsite.

I'll never understand the campsite. I don't even talk about the “phenomenon”, I mean camping as a concept. I mean, it's awkward to sleep in a tent, not having a bath, washing dishes in a stream, etc. We all know what it means to travel in a tent. So, if anyone says, I'm going to bank all those discomforts because I want to be alone in the middle of  Patagonia , okay. I get it. I'd even say I'm a little agree, that the plan is tempting. But if you're going to put yourself in that degree of discomfort and you're gonna have the tent next door 35 inches, I don't understand you there anymore. Doesn't it bother you even a little, to hear the twisting of the neighbor's intestines? Doesn't it screw you that one coughs, the other sneezes, and the one from beyond is pricking with something and screaming like a shout?

What is the difference between stopping at a campsite and sleeping in Plaza Italia? The grills? We fix it with a veneer and two bricks. The community showers? Don't even make me talk about it. The river/lake/stream/whatever is near the campsite? That could be. But if you go on vacation to a square, at least you get back with rashes all over your body, a galloping scoliosis and some lice that you finish fighting in June, when you start thinking about next year's holiday, and you start to find out by campsites in the south... Cute nature!